


Skype Date

by Temaris



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Skype Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 05:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10269467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temaris/pseuds/Temaris
Summary: The very first time Jack and Bitty have enough privacy to, er, *skype* each other since Madison.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly fluff & a little jerking off ;) A little bit of terrible French (seriously, Bitty, don’t believe the internet. Also, you misgendered sausage), & some rather better Quebecois courtesy of Jo and Emef who are stars :)

Bitty blushes fiercely and tugs his blankets up to his chin defensively without even really realising that he’s doing it.

“You don’t have to,” Jack says swiftly. He’s blushing just as fiercely. "I just – “

They stare at each other helplessly. Bitty knows exactly what Jack’s thinking, and he wants, with a fierce and almost painful tug to be back in Madison, in the unprivate privacy of a truck bed, watching fireworks. Making their own fireworks.

Skype just isn’t the same.

"It was so good–” he blurts out, and Jack nods.

“Fuck.” Jack’s eyes slide shut. "You should come up for Thanksgiving.“ He stops, and bites his lip. "Or–”

“No taking it back!” Bitty says instantly. “You offered, and I’m coming.” His blush redoubles, and he straightens his shoulders. “Both kinds.”

“Right now?” Jack teases, and Bitty smirks right back.

“That can be arranged,” he says, and somehow, it’s not awkward the way it was just a couple of minutes ago. He lets go the blanket, watches Jack’s pupils dilate. Laptop down, somewhere it won’t go flying, and then he hauls off his shirt, wriggles out of his shorts. He ends up on his knees, the webcam pointing at – not at his face, and Jack. Jack’s mouth is open and he’s staring. A bright flush is spreading across those raw cheekbones. "You like?“ Bitty asks mischievously, feeling more than a little smug.

Jack takes a couple of deep breaths. "More than like, Bits,” he says. "Damn.“ His voice is hoarse and he’s breathing hard, one hand gripping the side of the laptop, and the other – out of sight. But moving. Bitty’s pretty damn sure his own pupils just dilated.

"Let me see?” Bitty says, and Jack moves so that the camera includes everything from the thighs up. "Jesus.“ Jack isn’t wearing pants. He’s hard. They both are, but to Bitty, who’s spent two years willing down inappropriate boners, Jack’s is far more interesting. "Why can’t we –”

“Schedules,” Jack reminds him, needlessly, and Bitty scowls. His calendar is already full. They’re grabbing every gap they can find, but it’s going to be hard. Holster and Ransom will be working them to the bone, trying to keep up last year’s momentum; the Falconers will want to get their money’s worth from their newest rookie (how very dare they). Games, practices, classes, conditioning, press and pr – then there’s dealing with the rest of the world. 

“Thanksgiving,” Bitty says firmly. "Come hell *and* high water, we’re having Thanksgiving.“

"Plan later, Bits,” Jack says. He’s laughing and Bitty pulls a face at him, and resettles his laptop. 

“Better?”

Jack isn’t laughing any more. “I want to touch you,” he says. “I want.” He stops, shakes his head.. “I want everything. The way your skin feels, the way you wriggle when I touch you on your sides–”

“Tickles,” Bitty mutters.

“I know, I won’t. Just — the line of your hips, and your *dick*,” he says, almost reverently, his eyes travelling down Bitty’s body with the words. "You look so good, and your thighs, fuck, you could suffocate me with those muscles, and I wouldn’t even care.“

Bitty swallows. His throat clicks dryly and he bats blindly for his water bottle. "Me?” He smiles, shaking his head. "You – you are so brave, darlin’. And so –“ He drags his eyes down Jack’s frame. "I know it’s not for me, but conditioning is doing amazing things to you, honey, and I could just eat up every pound of it with a spoon.”

Jack ducks his head, but it really doesn’t hide the grin he’s wearing. 

“Wait. Jack? Are you bulking up for me?” Bitty asks, and Jack smirks.

“Diet plan.” he says blandly. “You know, it’s very important to build weight early, the biggest problem most NHL rookies face is keeping weight and muscle mass on,” he adds as dry as dust, only the crinkles at the corners of his eyes giving him away.

Bitty giggles. “That’s my Jack, always bringing the sexy.”

Jack lifts his hips and wraps one hand around his dick, stripping firmly up it and then back down, letting his foreskin pull back and settle back in place. He raises an eyebrow at Bitty.

“Yeah?”

Bitty copies him, hand on dick, and a breathless, “Yeah,” in return. "Everything you do is sexy, sweetheart.“

And he means it. He’s been hard for so long and the touch of a hand on his dick, especially when he’s watching Jack as avidly while Jack watches him is so so good. They move together and it feels almost like they are together. He can’t get enough of this, his voice, his face, his half lidded eyes and the hot need burning in them.

"You’re amazing,” he whispers, and Jack groans, long and low. Bitty shudders, that sound into his earbuds, so warm and so close, surrounding him in Jack damn near finishes him. "Jack,“ he whimpers and Jack looks up from where he’s been watching Bitty’s hand moving faster and faster. "Jack–”

“Je suis là pour toi, mon chéri, t'es – j'en peux pas –” His face tightens and he meets Bitty’s eyes, “Oh.” His breath shudders out of him and Bitty glances down for a second to see him spurting, half way up his chest, all over his fingers, and that’s more than enough to tip him over the edge too. He doesn’t know what sounds he makes, but Jack looks hungrier than he did before they started.

“I miss you,” he says quietly, and reaches a hand out to the screen as though to touch Bitty. 

“I wish–”

“I know. Soon, mon amour. Promis.”

Bitty swallows – he’s not going to tear up, not while Jack’s looking sad enough already. He wants this to be a good memory, not another reminder of the things they can’t have.

“Soon,” he agrees. And if his smile wobbles, well, it’s okay, they both know why. "I miss you too, mon saucisse,“ he tries out carefully, and is rewarded by a crack of laughter from Jack. He grins back, pleased. French endearments make no sense at all to him, but he found it online, and well….

"Non, chéri, pas saucisse, je t'en prie,” he manages to choke out.

“Well, it’s better than cabbage,” Bitty says, laughing with him. “I ain’t calling you a cabbage! I despise cabbage. I love you.”

“Moi aussi, j’t'aime,” and Jack is beaming at him. They’re both a mess, and they probably should go to sleep but Bitty just wipes himself off cursorily with his shirt, and slides down into the bed. The laptop goes on the pillow next to him

“You able to sleep now, darlin’?” he says softly, and Jack nods. He does the same, and they curl up, facing each other. 

“Bonne nuit, chéri,” Jack murmurs.

“Sleep well, honey,” he whispers back, and blows him a kiss. Jack smiles, catches it and presses his lips to his palm. His eyes drift closed once, twice, and then stay shut. Bitty watches as the lines of tension on his face ease out, and his breathing deepens.

“Jack,” he murmurs, already half dreaming despite the low glow of the laptop and the lure of Jack, and sleeps.


End file.
